


X-lock Files

by Toroto



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock BBC, X-Men (Movies), X-Men Evolution, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-23 02:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/617103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toroto/pseuds/Toroto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Watson has always been normal... and that makes him special</p>
            </blockquote>





	X-lock Files

John had always been normal. Normal, average, plain and ordinary. In this world, oddly enough, normal set him apart. He wasn't supposed to be normal, after all. Not with a life like he had. He was supposed to have been born incredible, amazing, and set apart than the rest of the world by DNA and a good breeding. He was supposed to be a mutant. Mutant by definition, anyway. Any set variation in a gene is a mutation and right around now, the entire world was filled with mutants.  
Long ago there was a war, a war between mutants and the ordinary humans. Decimation was expected, total extinction of one side eminent. The only thing that had stopped that from happening was a group of well trained mutants who fought for peace. Fought and won. They showed that each side could accept each other at least to the extent of co-habitation. It was a shaky compromise, admittedly, but it stopped the fighting for the time and that was all they could have wished for.

There was still things that they had to do to keep this compromise. Mutants that contained the X-gene always had amazing powers or special abilities beyond the possible imagination. Some could produce flames from their hands, others could read minds, a few could morph their image into anything imaginable. These people were still, admittedly, dangerous to those who couldn't defend themselves. So they were marked. Just a simple thing on the hand to let everyone else know that they were mutants. When the first signs of a power manifested, they were sent to a special school and trained to use their powers for good. They became the police, the firemen, the actual protectors of the human race bit by bit instead of the thing to ultimately destroy it. Mutants were humans too, just a bit different. Special.

Once a mutant was trained they were allowed to go out into the world and try to succeed. The police watched over everyone and made sure no one abused their powers, no one used them to exploit others more than given. Silvertongues who could convince anyone to do anything were watched carefully and mind readers were not allowed to go gambling for obvious reasons. Things like this were what made it a bit more equal between the two groups. As for the normal people, if they were well enough off, they were taught in school how to defend themselves against things such as these. It took a lot of work and a bit of technology, but if you were wealthy, you could buy something to get people to stop messing with your head. At least partially. It wasn't a foolproof project, you must understand, but it at least kept things a bit more even. It allowed co-habitation and people began to get used to the small yellow and black X on a person's hand. The yellow X eclipsed by a black circle. It was common now to see people like that walking around. They were proud of that symbol.

Both John's parents were mutants. His father could alter gravity and make it heavier or lighter accordingly. His mother could pause time as long for the amount of time that she didn't blink (thankfully it was self-imposed. Only happened when she wanted it too). So it was expected that John and Harry would be mutants as well. Good breading had always resulted in the offspring being mutants. Not always the same powers as their parents because each person reacted differently to the gene. Harry was a mutant. She could produce illusions like holograms in front of others.

John still remembered when they had found out.

\----

"Harry!" The tiny five year old John called out insistently, knocking away the hand that was pulling at his hair. Harry was being a brat again, pushing and pulling at him to come play. He honestly didn't want to. He was tired of all the odd little games Harry would invent to keep herself entertained. His sister just couldn't keep still and even with him at the age of five, John knew that she would be horrible when she got her powers. It was assumed that she would get powers, just like he would. It was expected so he just kept waiting and looking forward to it.

"Oh come on, Johnnnn. Play with me. Mom says you have to," Harry whined as she continued to pull at his hair even when he struggled to get away. Her face was pinched and pleading, squished up as if she expected him to come no matter what and this little uprising was displeasing her.

"I don't wanna. Go away," He finally complained loudly and broke away, leaving a few strands of hair left in her hand as he stumbled forward. Thankfully he didn't fall on his face as he regained his balance and swiveled around to fend himself of from any further attacks to his person. His hands were up in tiny fists, ready to protect himself from the onslaught.

Harry sniffed a little then, disappointment clear on her face but he didn't care. He didn't want to play 'lets go trash the neighbors flower garden' or 'lets see what can float in the pond: mom's gold watch or Dad's sunglasses'. John had learned by now that none of Harry's games resulted in good happy fun. It resulted in him getting in trouble more often then not.

When the effects of the full out pout didn't affect him, Harry stomped her foot and scowled. "You are no fun anymore. Why can't you be a more interesting brother?" She huffed heavily and sat down on the floor of his bedroom. Harry had been trying to pull him away from his game of Legos before all of this started. "I wish I had a brother who was more like fun...or a dog. A dog would play with me," She complained thoroughly as she proceeded to tear apart one of his blue towers of the castle he was making.

John just stood there and frowned liberally, little face red as he gazed at his work being torn apart. At this point, he just wished he had some powers to stop his older sister from messing up his stuff. He couldn't do anything about it though. Harry was bigger than him.

"We need a dog," Harry repeated with a nod. "A dog would be so much better than a brother. Is there anywhere we can trade you out for a good dog?" Her smirk was enough to make John near to tears but what stopped that was something he hadn't expected.

See, something you might not understand is that when someone gets powers, it usually starts in the tiny things. Someone who has the ability to control fire might start with a spark or someone who can levitate things would begin just by the shaking of a cup. At least, that is when they appear as a child. Some don't know about their gifts till years later but those cases are extremely rare and far between.

Harry... Harry started out with creating a tiny image of a Lego dog. It was about the size of the top knuckle of an adult thumb, a shimmering, not even slightly realistic looking green dog shaped thing that hovered maybe an inch above the carpeted ground. It moved a bit around in a circle but Harry hadn't noticed it as she continued to talk about how it would be better to have a dog rather than a brother. It began to sniff at one of his blocks and John couldn't help but smile at that, reaching a hand up to wipe at the water that had been forming in his eyes from previously. Clueless, Harry just talked all the more furiously, probably think he was laughing at her with that smile.

The little boy eventually found mercy as the dog began to paw at Harry's pants, its itsy bitsy paw not even making any contact since it was just a illusion. "Harry, look." He said pointedly and moved a finger towards the dog as if it was obvious what he had been smiling at. As if the tiny green shimmering thumb sized dog was normal.

The image faded about five seconds after Harry saw it, shock registering on her face as it flickered out of existence. A squeal of delight came from her lips next, high pitched, giddy, and John had the urge to cover his ears with his tiny hands in annoyance at the loud sound. His sister jumped up, grasping his hand and pulling them both out of the room at break-neck speed, charging towards through the hallways and towards the kitchen where their parents were located, all the while screaming "My powers!" at the top of her lungs.

The following ten minutes went by in such a rush that John had trouble remembering all of it. After all, he was five at the time. Give him some slack when it came to that much talking. Still, he recalled his parents excitement though Harry hadn't been able to produce the illusion again. He remembered the eagerness and exhilaration that was felt for all of them. Plans had been made to send Harry to go to testing, to make sure that her powers were stable, and then school.

It was only later that John realized that he was losing his sister because of this.

It was much like a boarding school, you would have to imagine. Going off for most of the year, even summer, and seeing your family only on the holidays. If your siblings were being trained as well then you saw them often but he... he didn't have any powers. Harry was leaving, his big sister, and no matter how annoying she was, John was horrified at the idea.

He had cried for days after Harry left, after they determined that she had a mutation for illusions and imaging. Inconsolable for hours on end in his little room, hugging his giant Stitch stuffed animal and wishing he had his sister back. His parents were little help to the youngster and he refused to do any of the things he normally did. It had devastated John, the lack of his sister. Because she was off doing amazing special and incredible things... and he wasn't.

\---

Mutations almost always manifest in some form by the time your twelve. It's about the time when you would be desperate for something, anything, to show up. Anything at all. John himself had only gotten out of his childhood slump because he had thought that eventually, he would have powers to. Nothing came. No spark, no shaking of a cup, no little green dog. He couldn't read minds and he couldn't change shape. He couldn't stop time like his mother or control gravity like his father. He couldn't breath underwater like the kid next door or control electronics like his computer teacher. He just... couldn't.

The worst feeling was the disappointment. The vivid sadness from his parents that said he had let them down even if they would never say those exact words. He wasn't a mutant, wasn't special. Ordinary plain John. Harry would come home ever Christmas, show the entire family what she could do now, and you would see the light in Father and Mother's eyes as they looked at their little protegee. The special one in the family, the one who came out different. Being a mutant wasn't a bad thing as it it used to be. It was a prize of the blessed in John's opinion.

For years it had made John bitter, growing up in normalcy while he watched excellence thrive around him. Mutants were everywhere, roaming the streets and showing off at the park. Harry would come home and show of the marking on her hand like a war trophy. His parents had one, Harry had one... John did not. It showed how horribly normal he was everywhere he went. He couldn't pretend that he was a mutant, couldn't hide the fact that h was the only one not gifted in his family. Everywhere they went as a group, people would look at Father, Mother, and Harry and wonder what their mutation might be... then they would see John and simply frown. Like they were sorry for him. He didn't need their sympathy

He didn't want it.

He could remember specifically the nagging taunts at school where other boys would mock him for not being mutant. For being the freak of the family. How the world had changed from those times of war where mutants were hunted and captured like animals. It was so normal now that bullies could pick on someone for not having a mutation. John hated it. Hated every bit of this life because he wouldn't fit in with his family. He was an outsider with no real reason to enjoy his home life.

So he stayed away from home at most points in time. Didn't enjoy being swamped out by the expectations. At twelve, he was desperate. At thirteen, he was exasperated. At fourteen, he was embarrassed and at fifteen, he was pretty much resigned to whatever fate he was given. He wasn't a mutant, wasn't different. Normal human being. Around sixteen, John had determined that despite his normalcy, he would make something out of his life.

That set him on the path to becoming a doctor. He would never be as good as some. Other mutants had a healing gift, but they worked in large hospitals for more than enough pay and didn't get much work done anyway. There was always need for more doctors and he knew where he was needed most. High school flew by with this goal in mind and uni went by just as fast. He worked long hours of the day learning everything he could and spent the nights studying for everything he had the next day. A vicious cycle that tired him out rather quickly but allowed him to graduate faster than most everyone in his class.

He was heading to the front lines.

\---

**Author's Note:**

> This was an idea I actually had based on a dream. X-men and Sherlock crossed. There will be more chapters later :3


End file.
